


Kissed By A Rose

by SassyFlamingo2



Category: Kuroshitsuji | Black Butler
Genre: Alternate Universe - Rock Band, F/M, Literature, Long Shot, Musicians, Romance, fan fiction
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-08
Updated: 2019-08-08
Packaged: 2020-08-13 02:35:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,668
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20166742
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SassyFlamingo2/pseuds/SassyFlamingo2
Summary: Black Butler is one of the hottest boy bands to ever grace the stage, setting the world on fire with their pumping dance tunes. But to you, their just your friends -- or more than friends in Grell's case -- becoming their manager and watchdog as they skyrocket to the top of the charts. When a serious stab of jealousy strikes one summer's night performance, it takes a bit of coaxing from Grell to reveal your despair. What surprises await his next performance?





	Kissed By A Rose

_(A/N: [](https://www.deviantart.com/users/outgoing?https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AMD2TwRvuoU)[www.youtube.com/watch?v=AMD2Tw…](https://www.deviantart.com/users/outgoing?https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AMD2TwRvuoU) This is the song I imagine Grell singing. Please listen when you reach that point in the fic.) _

Summer Fest 2019. The crowd applauds, a thunderous roar that rises in pitch to a near-deafening tone. The shrill screams of over a thousand teenagers echo through the stands while every single pair of eyes are glued to the stage. Committing every single movement, word, and note of the band members preforming on stage. Black Butler. The most popular boy band currently setting the world on fire.

The Frontman: Sebastian Michaelis. A tall, thin man with a short crop of raven colored hair, hypnotic red eyes, and a voice that could lull angels to sleep. Cool and confident while striding around the in his long-sleeve white shirt, tight black leather pants, and a purple scarf draped artfully around his neck. Pausing every so often to bend down and flutter his long fingers over the sea of frantically waving hands, electing a scream of pure delight from a many of fans.

The Drummer: Ronald Knox. His two tone 'do -- blonde hair on top, black hair on bottom-- is almost as well known as his amazing drumming skills. A perpetual ladies man with a killer smile always flashing, he is hotly competitive with Sebastian for who is the favorite amongst the fans. His arms are blurred as he pounds on the drums. Producing the thumping beat that's one of the hallmarks of Black Butler's music. 

The Guitarist: Grell Sutcliff. With his long red hair and trademark red framed glasses, Grell is the flashest member of Black Butler and the self-appointed daredevil. With his fingers plucking sharp, searing notes from his chain-saw shaped electric guitar, he struts around the stage in tandem with music. The tails of his red trench coat flying behind him like a pair of wings while he executes dramatic spins, dips, and hip thrusts that sends the fans screaming -- and more than a few young girls fainting from shock. 

The Keyboardist: Ciel Phantomhive. The youngest member of Black Butler and certainly the most sarcastic. His face is set in a deep frown of contraction while his fingers glide across the pale keys of the keyboard. Barely tall enough to reach the keys but with a acidic personality twice his size. It was somewhat of a wonder that he managed to fit in as well as he did with the rest of the free-spirited members.

These four unlikely personalities had formed together in high school as a garage band. Performing at local events and coffee shops till they were discovered by a rogue talent agent. A quick call to one of the top record executives and a meeting was arranged for the four boys, all the executive had to do was hear one song and their career was set. They skyrocketed to fame seemingly overnight; appearing on talk shows, concert tours, and red carpet awards shows. 

And you were there to see it all. 

The childhood friend that turned into the band manager. You are responsible for each and every event the boys played. Serving as the guiding force that directs the band to their continued path of stardom while also insuring that the boys don't get too wild and burn out. Your presence was invisible to the public -- no more than a name listed in the credits on an album -- but that was how you liked it, you'd never had the desire to being in the spotlight along with the boys. Being a guard dog, stealthy and quiet, till your influence was needed, that was where you excelled. Only one thought troubled your mind with this arrangement.

Your long-standing relationship with Grell was hidden from the world. As was recommended by the band's publicity manager, none of the boys publicized their romantic relationships -- aside from Ronald's string of weekly conquests. Supposedly being single was viewed as an advantage by the many followers who entertained romantic hopes around the band, but sometimes it just hurt so much to have to keep your love a secret. Like now, Grell was dancing around the edge of the stage in his usual vivacious manner, oblivious to the hands of fans lovingly caressing the bottoms of his legs like was an immortal god. The joyous love glowing in their eyes sparked a blaze of jealously so strong that you had to look away. 

With another resounding roar of applause, peppered with screams of "WE LOVE YOU!", the boys clattered offstage as another band took their place. Hair plastered down with sweat from their exertions but with eyes shining bright, they practically vibrated with excitement -- well, all except for Ciel. 

"Did you see how loud they cheered, (y/n)? It was awesome! This was the best one yet!" Ronald yelled. Slinging his arms around your shoulders and spinning you around in a circle of jubilation till you were dizzy and laughing along with him.

"Hands off my (y/n)!" Grell grumbles, charging forward to snatch you right out of Ronald's arms. Grell's arms snake around your waist and tug your forward into the warmth of his larger frame, his face burrowing down into the crook of your neck. 

"Hey, get off! You're all sweaty!" You giggled, pushing him away with a shove. 

"It's not my fault," Grell whined, his lips coming up in a pout. "The lights were _so _hot. You just couldn't imagine how hard it was to dance and play music under all that heat. I was positively melting into a beautiful puddle of red out there." He slumped into one of the numerous chairs that lined the backstage area and proceeded to fan himself with a brochure from some past event.

"As much as it pains me to admit, Grell is right." Your head turns toward the cool voice of Sebastian. The singer tugs the decorative scarf around his neck off and unbuttons the the first three buttons of his shirt, exposing pale collarbones that made fangirls squeal all over the country. "It was rather stifling out there." 

With a closer inspection, you noticed that all the boys looked a little tired and hot themselves. The black rimmed eyeliner that all the boys wore had started to smudge with the added moisture, producing a slight raccoon-eyed effect. Ronald's sleeveless shirt had a long moisture stain down his back, and even stuffy little Ciel was looking rather uncomfortable in his heavy leather jacket.

"Hmph, to listen to you bunch of pansies complain, you'd think that (y/n) sent us out in the desert to die." The smallest member of Black Butler spoke up. His numerous silver bracelets jingling on his arm as he crossed his arms over his chest. That vivid blue eye fixing you with a stare that crushed those with a weaker will. "We'll be fine to go on again tomorrow. Don't worry about us."

"Well, you dictatorial little midget! If your going to make us perform again in that blistering heat, then I'm going to bed. I need my beauty sleep." With that being said, Grell grabbed your hand and started to stomp away, only to stop when you don't move. "Well, darling? Come on! I said let's go to bed." he stares at you quizzically.

You shake your head. "I can't right now. I have to make sure that everything is ready for tomorrow."

"Oh, pish. I can do that." You jump in surprise when a blonde head with ringlet curls popped up beside you. Your faithful assistant and unlikely fiance to Ciel Phantomhive, Elizabeth Midford, is showing off her ninja skills again. Seriously, the girl could sneak up on a cobra and charm it into wearing baby clothes. "You go on ahead with Mr. Sutcliff, (y/n). I'll have this all whipped up together in a jiffy." She winks, flashing a knowing little smile in your direction. Grell could get extremely clingy when he was exhausted and you were his "cuddle bear" You start to stammer out a protest but Grell was already tugging you away. 

You staggered along behind Grell, even in your tennis shoes you were having trouble keeping up with his longer legged stride. The blazing red sight of his own lavishly decorated tour bus -- the one requirement made by all four bandmembers was that they each had their own separate bus to travel in -- rapidly grew closer. He slung the door open with a bang, stepped aside to allow you to enter, and pulled the door shut as he climbed inside himself. For lack of a better word, one could describe the interior of the bus in three simple words, it was red. Red shag carpet decorated the floor against the imitation red cherry wood paneling. A raspberry red sofa faced the red topped Formica kitchen and dining table set. Continuing on down the hall to the private bedroom, red once again reigned supreme in the curtains, bed linens, and pillows. A small old-fashioned vanity sits inside the little private bathroom enclosed in the bedroom, the shimmering mirror surrounded by a semicircle of round lightbulbs. Opposite the bathroom, a modern walk-in closet is practically busting at the seams with both his and your clothes. 

There was a quick squabble over who gets to shower first, but you win. Grell flops on the bed, belly down, and pouts into one of the plush red pillows, glaring daggers into your back while you struggle to open the closet doors. The doors crack open a few inches, just enough room for you to thrust your arm inside and grab a change of clothes before slamming the doors back shut. "We've got to get rid of some of this junk, honey."

The red lump on the bed says nothing, the greenish-yellow eyes follow your every movement though. 

"I'll be back in a jiffy." You ruffle a hand through the top of his head. Grell squeals like a puppy, all high pitched and cute, commanding you not to damage his luscious locks. You just laugh and saunter on in to the bathroom. Normally, you were the queen of the five minute shower -- the limited supply of hot water aboard the bus provided quite a shock when it ran out -- but you were still soaping your hair when the insistent knocking started on the door. "What is it?"

"Oh, darling? I'M DYING! I NEED TO SHOWER AND RESTORE MY PRISTINE STATE!" 

You sighed, rinsing the soap from your hair. Grell was the love of your life, but sometimes you just wanted to put a muzzle on him -- although it still probably wouldn't stop his crazy antics. Shutting off the water, you reached around for a towel, wrapped it around your body, and grabbed the hair dryer of the counter. Opening the bathroom door, Grell is still standing there, clad only in his sweatpants with fresh clothes tucked under his arm, and pushes you aside.

"See you in a few minutes, darling! I'll be ravishingly beautiful again just for you!" He trills, quickly closing the door in his wake. In a minute, it snaps back open and your clothes come flying through the air -- your t-shirt lands on your head -- and then clicks back closed. You just shake your head and smile, tossing your shirt onto the bed. How could he be so frustratingly cute and annoying at the same time?   
  
Thirty minutes later, Grell was still in the bathroom. You had already snuggled down beneath the covers of the bed with your favorite book and you were getting so _sleepy_. The tiny lines of text were getting blurrier and blurrier, the weight on your eyelids slowly slipping-

"All done, darling." Grell's voice calls through the door, starling you back to full awareness. The bathroom door opens slowly, revealing a much less glamorous but still equally handsome Grell. His waist-length hair was no longer the vibrant strawberry red, instead being a rich shade of chocolaty brown twisted into a long braid down his back. Gone too was the excessive stage makeup, revealing a fine bone structure that supermodels would have killed for. Clad in a black hoodie bearing the bands logo and the pair of sweatpants he had been wearing previously, the final remaining piece of his transformation from his rockstar style to his regular human one was the gigantic round-framed glasses in place of the red ones he wore on stage. He smiled tentatively, the huge glasses magnifying his eyes to almost owlish proportions. "Another transformation complete."

You giggled and placed your book down on the bedside table. Grell shuffled over and turned the lights down low, the long edges of his pants dragging against the soft carpet with every step. If he wasn't careful, he was going to-

*Whump*

He fell. You sat up in the bed, clutching the covers to your chest with one hand. "Grell, you alright?"

"I'm fine." There was brief sensation of cool air blowing across your toes and then the bed dipped. A large lump slithering around under the covers, before Grell's head popped out nose-to-nose with you. He smiles again, full of nervous energy, and he kisses your cheek. Settling down onto his stomach with a pillow tucked under his neck, Grell loosens his braid of hair with one hand, sighing softly when your hand soothingly glides down the slightly wavy strands. This was one of your favorite moments, when the day was over and you could truly relax and be yourself and Grell be his self as well. As long as the makeup was on, his flamboyant -- and sometimes chaotic -- personality was at the fore and you loved that side of him that was afraid of nothing and no one, but sometimes it was nice to relax with this quieter side of Grell. A side that he reserved only for you.

"You didn't watch me preform today. Did I do something wrong?" His words were muffled by the pillow but were still clear enough that it stabbed you in the heart like a knife. Sometimes it was hard to remember that lurking underneath all the glamour and glitz was the same shy, scared little boy who was desperately seeking approval from the ones he loved most. 

"I did watch you onstage." You tried to smile convincingly but your hand paused it's motions in his hair. Grell recoils a bit from your touch and stares into your eyes. The intense love he feels for you and the guilt over whatever pain he thought he caused shines so brightly from his eyes that it takes your breath away. You gnaw on your bottom lip, internally debating on just how much to tell him. "I did... most of the time."

His eyes glisten with unshed tears. "Every time I looked, you were turned away..." 

"I just couldn't... stand to watch you be worshiped right then." Your cheeks flush several shades of red in the low light. "All those people were watching so intensely. Snapping at your heels for any tiny little piece they could touch. It just made me think of how when we're in public, I can't do that. I can't touch you or kiss you, or even hold your hand because there's always someone with a camera. It has to in private, like earlier when you came off the stage or like now."

There's a silence that stretches so long that you begin to wonder if he has dozed off to sleep. "You're- You're jealous. You're jealous! This is wonderful!" Grell starts cackling so hard that he blindly rolls over onto your body, effectively squishing you beneath his weight. You cheeks flare even redder in embarrassment. Sending him flying to the floor with a one powerful shove, you sit up in bed and lean your back against the headboard, arms crossed across your chest in anger. Grell pops back up on his side of the bed, rubbing his head with one hand, and crawls across till he's sitting directly in front of you.

"Look at me!" 

"No!"

"(y/n), pleeeeeeeaaaaasseeee!" God, the man could make one word cry out in agony from the amount of stretching.

When you still refuse to meet his eyes, he raises a hand and tenderly strokes his slender fingers along your cheek. When your eyes finally rise to meet his, he smiles, fingers trailing down your shoulder and arm to enfold around your hand and bring it to his lips for a kiss between the knuckles. "Darling, I do love your cheeks flushed such a beautiful shade of red, but it's nothing to be embarrassed over. Every time I step on the stage, I don't see the thousands of obsessively screaming fans. I see you, watching me with that special glimmer in your eyes that never fails to make my heart pound. If you wanted, nothing would make me happier to march you up on stage and kiss you thoroughly. You're my hope. My dreams. My muse. The blazing sun that wakes me up every morning and the soothing moon that lulls me to sleep every night. You're my reason for living. My beautiful red rose amidst a sea of grey." Grell punctuates each statement with a kiss to your lips.

"You're such a hopeless romantic." Your whispered words are sharp in nature, but hold no venom. Instead, you smile sweetly and give him one last kiss. "It's late. We'd better get to sleep. I can't have my sparkling scarlet star looking all worn out." You motion for him to lay down beside you as you snuggle back down under the covers. One thin arm wraps itself around you waist, his nose settling in your hair to breathe in your unique scent. It doesn't take long before sleep descends on you both. 

_The next morning..._

"Grell! Hurry up! We've got to go!" You pound on the door with your fist, attempting to be heard over the rush of water. The situation was like deja vu in reverse, this time with Grell in the bathroom instead of yourself. You glance down at your watch, it's only an hour before Black Butler is due on stage and Grell and Ronald are still not ready. "Grell! You've got five minutes before I come in there and pull you out by your hair!" At least this time he shut the water off. Dragging your hand across your lips, you barely suppressed a tired yawn. It's been a long time since your 3 a.m. wakeup call. Poking and prodding the crew into wakefulness and ensuring that all the preparations were going smoothly -- the aftermath of a very destructive hard rock session was still littered the stage from the final band playing last night -- had taken you most of the morning. Before you had returned to the bus, both Ciel and Sebastian had already arrived with their usual impeccable timing, leaving only the two slowest members of the band to arrive. You had pounded on the door of Ronald's trailer as you passed by, earning a sleepy moan of "Not yet!" from the interior. 

The door opened, revealing a shirtless but fully made up Grell with his hair still tied up in a towel. "Ready for your lovely assistance, my darling." He shoves the can of spray hair chalk into your hands and pulls you inside. He plops down on the tiny stool facing the vanity and unties his hair, letting the full length of the damp brown strands trail into your waiting hands. Giving the can a shake, you start spraying the red tint through his hair. With the intense scarlet hue quickly returning with every stroke, it only took a couple of passes before it was finished, a blazing mane of the brightest red once more. A quick fluff with your fingers, spritz from the can of hairspray, and he was finished. During your gentle ministrations, his head had lolled back against his shoulders, eyes shut tight in relaxation behind the red frames.   
  
"All done," you breathe directly into his ear. Leaving a line of intense kisses along his jaw, he shivers and slides a hand up into your hair, gripping it tightly and urging you closer. But you deny it, drawing away even as he whimpers in protest against the absence of your touch. "Come on." You pat him on the shoulder and he rises, albeit grumbling all the while, and slips on his stage clothes. You pick up the long red coat from the chair it was flung across last night and hold it out to him. He slides his arms inside, adjusts it to the half-up position on his shoulders, and flips his hair sassily at you. He starts to pull out some smart-aleck reply, but you shove his shoulders, pushing him out of the bus and on his way to the stage. 

"You're late, Sutcliff. Do you not own a watch?" Ciel remarks. Idly sipping tea from the bone china cup in his ring-bedecked right hand while lounging in one of the flimsy little chairs. Sebastian barely spares a cool glance at you both, also sipping tea from his own cup while he waits. 

"Shut up, emo-midget!" Grell snaps back, sinking into his own chair. "Somebody bring me some coffee!" A blonde haired boy rushes to fill his order with a patter of feet, carefully cradling the life giving liquid in a Styrofoam cup upon his return. Grell snatched it out of his hands and drains it in two gulps.

"Woo-hoo! Are you guys ready to rock out?" Better late than never, Ronald strolls into the area. Twirling his drumsticks between his long fingers before shoving them into the pocket of his baggy cargo pants. He views the area with a frown. "What's up with all of you?"

"Don't pay any attention to them, Ronald. They've all just got a case of the morning grumpies," You call as you walk around and check all the equipment to your satisfaction. Good. Everything seems to be in place. Since it was the last day of the festival, The boys were opening today's festivities with a couple songs that would be televised on national tv. You peeped around the curtain at the huge mass of people already jostling for space. A record number of people had already attended so far but this crowd looked like it had swelled even larger overnight. The repeat chant of "Black Butler!" was already surging through the stands. The cry of the awaiting audience for their favorite musical stars. "Boys, I think you're up."

They all stand up and saunter towards the stage. Sebastian grabbed a mic and winks at you as he passes "You always do such a lovely job for us, (y/n)" and is first to emerge from behind the curtain to the joyous screams of the audience. Ronald follows next, ruffling your hair and running out onstage full speed. Ciel, as elegant as a fawn, bypasses your figure with barely a nod, another surge of screams accompanies his arrival as he settles behind his keyboard. Directly behind him is Grell who pauses, placing a finger under your chin and lifting your gaze to his. 

"Remember what I said, darling. Don't take your eyes off me." He kisses your lips, long and sweet, before grabbing his guitar and walking out to the stage. The first opening strands of their song already floating through the air as the boys sing, dance, and play their hearts out. Even Ciel looked a little happier, showing a tiny little smile each time he glanced off stage to where you and Elizabeth -- when had she arrived? -- watched the whole show. They were truly born to preform. This is their home.

"You give love a bad name." Sebastian sang, spinning around on his heel a la Micheal Jackson style. The last notes of the pumping beat smooth out into something softer. More soulful and romantic. Their next song. A tiny -- almost imperceptible -- nod from Sebastian and Grell strolls forward. Sebastian hands him the microphone and steps back, arms laced straight and proper behind his back. 

"Hello, everyone! Are all you lovelies having a good time?"

"Yes!" The answering reply roars back to him with all the ferociousness of a lion.

"This next song is something a little bit different that the ones that we normally do." Grell's boots click as he walks around the stage. His every uttered word treasured like gold by every member of the audience. It's a very personal song. Something that I wrote for someone who is very special to the members of Black Butler and most of all, me. Here it goes." He closes his eyes, swaying in tune with the music and the audience begins to hum along with sweet melody.

"There used to be a greying tower alone on the sea  
You became the light on the dark side of me  
Love remained a drug that's the high and not the pill  
But did you know that when it snows  
My eyes become large and the light that you shine can be seen?

Baby! I compare you to a kiss from a rose on the grey  
Ooh, the more I get of you, the stranger it feels, yeah  
Now that your rose is in bloom  
A light hits the gloom on the grey..."

By now the audience is completely enraptured by the profound lyrics. Swaying in tune with their hands upraised, fingers spread open wide. A show of silent solidarity in the emotional wake. It was magical. With the rise in pitch of the music, Grell turns and steps over to where your standing, hand held out to you in invitation for a dance. "May I, my love?"

You stutter and stammer nonsense, happiness mixed with confusion rendering your words unintelligible and a blush as red as a rose bloom across your face. Surely he wasn't really going to confess his love for you in front of all these people? Doesn't he know how bad it could hurt his career? The sound of your pounding pulse threatens to drown out the lovely music but you decide to take that chance. As light as a butterfly, you place your hand in his. His slender fingers capturing yours in his grip, gently leading you into full view of the stage. Then a whirl of motion sends you spinning, extending out to the edge of his reach before whirling back into his arms. Your legs following dance steps you didn't even remember but your body knew what to do. You stepped, twirled, and kicked, as graceful as a prima ballerina in his arms. It didn't matter who was watching, just as long as that it was you two together, dancing a dance of pure love to the song he wrote inspired by your love. 

A smile curves across his lips as he starts singing the rest of the lyrics and your heart has never felt so full of happiness. It was overwhelming. The flood of emotions rising till a small trickle of tears started down your cheeks. As the song slowed to a stop, Grell spun you one final time before coming to a halt, your hand cradled in his while he drops to one knee. Surprise momentarily stunning you from breathing as he places the microphone aside and pulls a small black velvet box from his pocket. "(y/n), my rose." He snaps open the box to reveal a sparkling diamond ring. "You have been my best friend since we were small. My biggest fan and strongest supporter of every adventure we've had so far, touring the world both near and far together. So, my next question is will you go on the next journey with me as my wife?"

"Yes!" you murmured, breathless in the silence. Leaping into his arms and smothering his face with kisses. As he slides the ring onto your trembling finger, the mingled sound of yours and his laughter is drowned out by the loudest surging roar of applause yet.   


**Author's Note:**

> Okay... So this started out as an idea for a full length series, but I decided to just cut it down to a regular one shot. *glances at the length of the fic. Sees word count of 4,655 words* Oops... Sorry for length. 
> 
> Hope you enjoy it!
> 
> Black Butler and all characters do not belong to me.  
The idea does belong to me.  
You belong to Grell.


End file.
